


Stingy Makes a Good Goalie (until he probably steals the ball or something, that just seems like something he would do imo)

by foxy_mulder



Series: Lazytown [4]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Gen, I need to go to bed, Misunderstandings, but i have to fufil my duty to the lazytown fandom, unintentional meanness, yeah thats right 2 in one night wild right hahaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 20:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8814433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxy_mulder/pseuds/foxy_mulder
Summary: Stephanie and friends are playing ball when Robbie shows up.(4th part of the Lazytown Series)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I should have made this into a chapter of the other one from tongiht but I didn't. I did not do that.
> 
>  
> 
> disclaimer: Stephanie is a sweet Baby Daughter but darn she is just tired of these balls getting stolen. She's not mean ok give her time to realize her mistakes

All week had been super duper _weird_!

Sportacus hadn't shown up for their basketball game 3 days in a row. No one had seen him, except Ziggy. He claimed that he saw Sportacus at the grocery store for a minute, but they didn't talk. 

 

Today, they were playing soccer. Stingy wanted to be the goalie (he made a great one- his designation of the ball as "mine" made him VERY determined to grab it when it was nearby) but there weren't enough people to have goalies, so Ziggy, Stingy, Trixie, Stephanie, and Pixel decided to have a casual scrimmage. All Stephanies friends were there, except Sportacus. Missing a player made the game less even. At the same time, though, Sportacus' team usually won, so maybe it made them MORE even.

 

They had been playing for almost an hour when Stephanie spotted something purple moving in the bushes.

"Hello?" she called out. What was that thing?

And out popped Robbie Rotten. She almost rolled her eyes. 

 

"Hello, Pinkie," he said with a smile that looked incredibly forced.

 

He stood up shakily and looked around the group of kids, gaze settling on the soccer ball. He shifted from foot to foot, and finally looked up.

 

"Can I, uh, play?"

 

He sounded nervous. Unsure. For anyone else, Stephanie would have picked up on that tone and invited them over to play and make friends, making them feel as welcome as possible. But this was _Robbie Rotten_. He had never come and outright asked to play- in fact, when he showed up, it was usually in disguise.

Stephanie knew it was some kind of trick to steal their ball or make them be lazy. The more she thought about it, the surer she was. She made her decision.

 

"No."

 

His face went blank and he just... stood there, breathing harshly, for a long moment. He mumbled something in a quiet voice. Then he turned and walked away silently.

Stephanie let out a breath of relief. Robbie had taken many soccer balls from them in the past, and she wasn't sure her uncle would keep replacing them much longer.  
She was surprised that saying "no" had actually worked; usually Robbie didn't let up until his scheme was complete. Maybe he was just going home to put on a disguise and try again.

 

"Geez, that was pretty mean, Stephanie," said Ziggy. "Maybe he really wanted to play."

 

"Yeah, right. That'll happen the day Sportacus eats a waffle! He was going to try and ruin our game, Ziggy."

 

"Sportacus doesn't eat waffles?!"

 

"They have sugar, remember?"

 

"Oh, right."

 

They played awhile longer, until the sun was low in the sky. Then they decided to go back to Pixels house and play video games. Stephanie thought Sportacus woud be proud of how she caught on to Robbies plot before it even began. Wherever the heck he was.

**Author's Note:**

> note that uhhhh Sportacus ate some waffles earlier 
> 
> its midnight o clock, I'm supposed to be studying, and the series chugs on. Loads of drama potential in this here chapter, folks
> 
>  


End file.
